Yesterday, I stayed at school past 8:00 p.m. creating visually-rich itineraries and editing an upcoming program to an obsessive-compulsive degree. I emerged from the computer screen-induced daze I had been in to realize that night had fallen, and I was the last one left in the gyomushil save for Jane. Unaware of my foggy mental state, she asked me some questions that helped draw me out of my reverie. Thank you, Jane.
Would I like a ride home?
Yes, please!
Snug in her small 4-door, Jane casually mentioned that the following day (today) would be picture-taking day.
Me: For what?
Jane: For the yearbook, of course!
Me: [remembering how I wasn't part of it last year, I murmured] cool!
Jane: So...what are you going to wear?
Me: Probably nothing. Err - what I mean is, I'm probably not...included in the yearbook, so -
Jane: Why not? You're a teacher at the school!
Me: [totally what I was thinking, but what I said was] I wasn't asked to be a part of it last year. I just assumed foreign teachers were excluded from the official school yearbook...
Jane: Huh...I bet you were in last year's, too. They probably just used your Fulbright mugshot.
Me: [horrified] I really hope not! Anyway, are you sure foreign teachers are included?
She said they (aka me - since I'm the only foreign teacher at my school) were. Though there are many aspects to love about my school, small things like these have made me feel a bit excluded in the past year. I am too shy to ask or confirm or, worse, look like I am insisting on being included in spheres where I may not belong.
I have been so attuned to this feeling while growing up that I have done everything I could in all the roles I have held to minimize the possibility of this feeling unhappily alighting upon other people.
Here's a happy little video I took of our picture-taking time - complete with sunshine, green grass, blue skies, people gardening, and awkward Korean studio poses that really don't speak at all to the aforementioned feelings of micro exclusions I have sometimes felt at my school.
After twisting my head at an uncomfortable angle and placing my hands in the most awkward pose ever, the photographer snapped my photo, and I was free!
It turns out Jane and I were among the few teachers at the school who got wind of the fact we would be taking photos today! (All because we had stayed past 8 p.m., when the school decided to send an automated message to teachers' computers). Many teachers ambled into the temporary studio self-conscious in their loose, non-stylish Friday outfits. Apparently, unlike other years, this year's yearbook portrait-taking was mandatory.
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